I have figured out why faeries from down under are not all aboriginal faeries...

The faeries are connected to us by race memory and so when we see them we see the ones who are connected to us wherever we live...possibly we see them how our mind constructs them for us...so people of different races see faeries familiar and or similiar to them re clothing...but then again it could be all bull... today is so hot I feel silly enough to say anything... glad this lot are friendly enough or at least neutral. I couldn't fight my way out of a paper bag in this 4,000 degree heat.

Each of my daughters have a pet...Melissa an old black alley type cat called Comet... this cat scares even me when I stay with her... her partner has claw marks on his thigh from where this thing has latched on..when the mood strikes...so does he. Other times he just sleeps and looks like a KING...she loves this cat but watches his pupils for "The Change"

Alison has a wonder doggie The very handsome Thorn...a lovely thick-set type red Kelpie...we are minding him right now because she has to live in a flat...up nine flights...no room for Thorn. He loves her to death and when she comes at Chriostmas he lays on the ground and cries. When she was at the worst of her illness some years back he laid quietly outside her door for months on end... only a doggie would do that... We are very fond of the old doggie with the big limp.

Just a Gathering of the little people, no doubt one has a tad of a sore head and well deserved... but for this Faerie famiily, once the wine goblet is filled, it must be drained quickly, so it will be filled again and again...so that wine goblet goes from hand to hand around the whole mob constantly... for if it is not emptied it can never be refilled and if not refilled it can never be emptied...poor faeries.

She's an odd little being... I found her a bit off putting as she regarded me, but didn't see me...may be a human reaction to other-worldliness... I drew this one ages ago and just found her a bit crumpled up in a box, the paper chewed off at the edge - had to trim it...feel like she is bemused at my slowness to recognise or remember her...but here she is...a bit of a lost faery.

Just a face...slightly cross-eyed. Not real but fun to draw... soometimes the pencil jsut does its own thing...maybe just maybe thats the faery of the pencil...yes that'd be it... maybe they draw themselves....or whatever...

This "Late Summer Faery" is a bit like the rest of us... hiding from the heat in the shade of our Lemon Myrtle Tree... she didn't even look up as I passed by her. I only had a quick impression of her but she was a fine and delicate a faery as I ever did see. I could see right through her and wouldn't have noticed her at all had I not stopped next to her in the shade before going out in the sun to hang out some washing. I wonder in what dimension of the 27 known (and no doubt there are hundreds more) do faeries hang out their washing. Then again if they are not bound by the same morality laws we are...why do they need clothes and why do their clothes so closely imitate ours...?

Maybe they really are the "little" people from ages past who went into the hills and it is we who have copied their dress code...?

So are there Versace faeries? Are their K Mart faeries or Op shop faeries?

A quiet faery

Just quietly leaning on her arm...this faery was looking at nothing in particular. She was just so still... so much like a child...like every child...I felt like giving her a big hug...but didn't because by her nature and her difference to human beings...she would disappear into a small speck of light and go back to that other dimension she feels safer in.